O, Thomas, will a Race one day stand really tall Across the Void, across the Universe and all? And, measure out with rocket fire, At last put Adam’s finger forth As on the Sistine Ceiling, And God’s great hand come down the other way To measure Man and find him Good, And Gift him with Forever’s Day? I work for that. Short man. Large dream. I send my rockets forth between my ears, Hoping an inch of Will is worth a pound of years. Aching to hear a voice cry back along the universal Mall: We’ve reached Alpha Centauri! We’re tall, O God, we’re tall! -Ray Bradbury